The Queen's Hand
by TDA792
Summary: Several years after the events of Ocarina Of Time and Majora's Mask, Link returns to Hyrule once more, to find a land ruled by three Queens. Meanwhile, the forces of darkness threaten to reconvene yet again...
1. Prologue

_**Hi guys. This is a story I began writing about three years ago, just after reading A Song Of Ice And Fire. It's been sitting on my hard drive for years, so I thought I might as well share it. Expect heavy influence from the Game Of Thrones series. There is Hyrule Warriors influences, too.**_

_**Fair Warning: Incomplete, and unlikely to be finished. **_

* * *

The wind blew hard and cold over the dunes of the desert, buffeting the wooden tower upon which a pair of weary guardsmen kept watch. Since the moon had not thought to come out tonight, darkness was staved off only by the light of their lanterns and the stars.

The guard tower had seen only a few months of life, yet its joints creaked like an old mans', and its wooden planks were smoothed from many a sandstorm. Atop it was a wooden table and chair, with similar wear upon them.

"Is there any ale left, Cossun?" asked the fatter of the two men. Like any member of the guard, he wore a vest of hardened leather, with matching greaves; unlike other members of the guard, he just about fit into his armour. A short cut of blond hair covered his egg-shaped head, and a wispy beard adorned his many chins. His lantern and a chubby hand were rested upon the table, while the rest of him sprawled lazily in the chair. A steel sword hung in a leather scabbard at his waist, the tip scratching along the floor with every movement.

"Nay," replied the other man. "You've already drunk most of it; I only took a sip before you poured it down your throat."

Cossun was a thinner, more fresh-faced looking soldier. A youth of twenty years, he had been blessed with a handsome visage and a sharp wit. Like the other man, he wore the leather armour of the guard, dyed grey in an attempt to make the mottled leather look like steel.

The fatter man laughed a deep, humourless laugh. "Perhaps you ought to be a good fella and fetch some more, eh?"

The guardsman known as Cossun looked around sharply. "I would suggest you get it yourself Cam, if you could manage to heave yourself out of that chair and down the ladder."

Indeed, it was a wonder how such a large man could manage to squeeze himself through the small hatch on the floor between them, and climb through the dark, claustrophobic innards of the tower to the sands below. Not that there was really much reason to; the surrounding area was nothing but desert dunes. The only remarkable sight was the sandstone temple rising out of the desert some miles to the north west. The route to the temple was flanked with wooden towers just like this one, giving light and watch over the dusty trail. Far in the distance, caravans from the capital were parked up for the night, a fire gently burning itself out between them.

Guardsman Cam looked about to retort when the floor hatch swung open. A steel clad figure emerged slowly from the hole in the floor, gloved hands gripping at the wooden ladder.

"Evening, Ser Hectar," Cam grumbled as the knight pulled himself onto the parapet. "What brings you up here tonight?"

Even though Ser Hectar Woodwright was a man yet to reach his thirtieth year, he looked much older. His face had many a line to it, and his lean frame was shielded by steel plate armour. A greatsword hung at his back, crusted with gold and silver on both its scabbard and hilt. His stringy brown hair hung limply over one eye, with only a single navy-blue eye to survey.

With a short push, he let the hatch fall back into place with a loud bang that made Cam and Cossun jump.

"I thought I heard sounds coming from up here," He eyed the fat man warily. "Turns out it was only you two louts. I trust you're not slacking off up here?"

"No Ser," Cam shook his head and sat upright in his chair. "Not us, Ser."

"Good," Ser Hectar growled. "If I had it my way, we wouldn't put such green men like yerselves in such an important role."

"Everyone's got to start somewhere, Ser," replied Cossun, leaning gently against the tower's railing. Cam nodded his head like it was the wisest thing he'd ever heard.

"Aye," agreed Ser Hectar. "Best be sure that you don't expire as soon as you start, eh lad." He clapped Cossun on the shoulder with a bit more force than was friendly.

Something in Hectar's demeanour reminded Cossun of his father. Unlike Hectar, Cossun's father had never been a knight of Hyrule – only a poor miller. He had objected heavily to his son's ambitions to join the city guard, or the spears as he called them. _No, _his father had told him, _if you leave here, who will run the mill? Do you expect me to work the mill 'til the day I die?_

Cossun had had no answer for him, except to steal off in the dead of night. He wondered whether his father had raged when he found his empty bed the next morning. In the end, he had decided it did not bear thinking about, as the old man had never come after him.

He had found himself assigned not within Hyrule Castle town as he had expected, but was posted out in the desert far to the west, the desert of illusions and – depending on who you believed – a merciless horde of amazons who steal through the dead of night.

Such a thought gave Cossun a chill far worse than anything the wind had to offer. Hylians were a superstitious bunch, and the idea of revenants riding through the desert after sunset would be enough to frighten even the bravest of warriors.

"How fares the escort, Ser?" Cossun inquired, suddenly remembering why the desert fortress had to be guarded all of a rush.

"Very well, no thanks to you," replied Ser Hectar icily. "His majesty will be arriving at the spirit temple shortly."

Cossun looked over at the horizon, where the inky black sky met the reddish tinge at the very edge, indicating sunrise was close at hand. He let out a small sigh of relief.

Cam rubbed his hands together nervously. "The sooner the King's justice is dispensed, the sooner we can leave this damned desert."

"True enough," replied Ser Hectar.

On the horizon, a dark shape seemed to dash, illuminated by the backdrop of the rising sun.

"Hold on, did you see that?"

"See what?" asked Cam, straining his neck to peer behind him. "Cossun, if this is another one of your games-"

"No, I'm serious, what was that?" snapped Cossun anxiously. The shape seemed to be moving in some kind of pattern, and it was travelling in their direction.

Ser Hectar looked grim. "Probably an animal attracted to our lantern light, is all."

"A-are you sure, Ser?" Cam had gone pale as a pint of milk. "Can you really be sure?"

"Well, why don't you go down and check for us?" sneered Ser Hectar.

"I… I…" Cam looked as though he'd rather be anywhere else than here, his chins wobbling as he looked from the knight to Cossun. The other guardsman gave a small, helpless shrug.

"Do it man! That's an order!" Ser Hectar barked. "Get your lard arse out of that chair and move!"

Cam hesitated. Without further warning, Ser Hectar Woodwright launched a tremendous kick which shattered the chair legs. Cossun flinched. Cam scrambled up like his breeches had caught fire. Blinking back tears, he reached down and undid the latch on the floor hatch. He lowered himself down without much haste, and began to descend the ladder.

"Which alehouse did they drag that man out of, I wonder." Ser Hectar shook his head disapprovingly, folding his arms across his chest.

Cossun looked nervous. "Was that true Ser? Is it really a wild animal?"

"I could not tell," admitted Ser Hectar. He looked out across the desert dunes, towards the parade of caravans far in the distance.

"I certainly hope it is, for Cam's sake."

Hectar's eye found Cossun's. "What do you care for old lard-arse?"

"Despite his disadvantages, he's an alright fellow – not to mention my brother-at-arms."

Hectar raised an eyebrow. "I've known plenty of 'alright' men in my time. Many of them are dead because of their own heroism. How long do you think he'll last?"

Cossun shifted uncomfortably. "Truth be told, Ser, his sister bid me keep watch over him as I lay in her bed."

Ser Hectar snorted.

Somewhere below, an anguished cry filled the night air. Ser Hectar and Cossun shared worried glances.

"Oh Goddesses! What was that?!" Cossun yelped, suddenly overcome by fear. Ser Hectar growled.

"Stay here, boy," Hectar said. With that, he flung the trapdoor open and shimmied hastily down the ladder.

Cossun leaned over the railing to try and see what was going on below, but to no avail. It was far too dark to see, and—

"Hold on!" Cossun spun around. Cam's candle was still burning slowly in the lantern on the table. "The fool forgot his lantern!"

The young guardsman quickly snatched up the lantern, and followed Ser Hectar's path down the ladder. The wailing wind stopped for a time as he descended through the dark centre of the tower, and he strained his ears to listen.

Was that the sound of steel on steel he could hear? Butterflies danced in his stomach as intensely as the flame in his lantern, Cossun climbed down as quickly as he could without falling.

Upon reaching the bottom, Cossun dropped the last two or three feet to the ground. He doubled over as his feet sank into the soft sand. Looking around, he could just about make out a shape on the ground. The wind blew sand into his face, and the darkness also prevented him from being able to work out what it was. Four wooden struts were buried in the sand a few feet from him in each direction of the compass.

Cossun wrenched his feet out of the sand. He groaned as he realised his high-legged sandals had filled with sand. Lantern lifted high, he approached the mass on the ground wearily, looking around for any sign of Cam or Ser Hectar. He let out an annoyed grunt as he kicked sand out of his sandal.

Then, Cossun gasped. The sand around the shape on the ground was stained a dark colour, and glassy eyes stared at him. Two holes had been punched through the poor fool, one in his neck and one through his chest. Sand had already begun to fill them as his blood drained out.

"Cam!" Cossun dropped to his knees and held Cam's face between his hands. The heat was already draining rapidly from Cam's large corpse.

"Leave him! They're still out there!" came the voice of Ser Hectar. Cossun looked up to see the knight, greatsword drawn, gazing intently as he turned slowly on the spot some ten feet away.

"He's dead, Ser!" cried Cossun, in shock. He had been alive only a few minutes ago, hadn't he? How could this have happened? "He's dead."

"And you will be too, if you don't pull yourself together!" roared Ser Hectar. Cossun did not move.

Suddenly, a shape flashed out of the darkness, a blade in each hand. It catapulted from somewhere beyond the range of vision, hurtling down in an arc towards Ser Hectar, blades spinning like a turbine. Ser Hectar yelled and raised his greatsword to parry. He deflected the first strike, but the second blade cut a long line down his face, between nose and eye. Blood oozed from the nasty-looking gash.

Ser Hectar roared in pain, and brought his greatsword down in a two-handed vertical slash. His adversary danced away like a cat. With the same movement, another foe came, spinning like a top out of the darkness from Ser Hectar's flank. He ducked under the swinging steel, and lashed out with his steel-toed boot, knocking his attacker's feet away. The figure fell to the ground, with Ser Hectar's sword soon following the same path.

A high-pitched screech erupted from the figure as Ser Hectar drove his sword through its heart.

Ser Hectar paused for a moment, breathing heavily, as he stared down at his attacker. She appeared to be dressed in some kind of exotic garb, and had long red hair tied up in a ponytail.

No sooner had he taken these features in, he felt arms snaking around his waist. With a sudden cry, he found himself launching upwards and backwards in one hell of a suplex. He crashed down hard on his head, and his body followed in a manner that a body should not. An audible crunch could be heard as his plated shoulder made contact with the side of his head. Ser Hectar Woodwright lay crumpled in a heap, the life gone from him.

His murderer turned towards Cossun. Her skin was an olive shade, and even though she wore a veil that covered her nose and mouth, Cossun could tell she was grinning. She looked at Cossun the way a leopard might look at a gazelle.

"For Ganondorf," she levied hoarsely, launching a brutal kick to the guardsman's face. Everything went black.


	2. Link -1-

Six years.

Six long years had passed since Link had last seen the green rolling fields of Hyrule. When he left in search of his friend and fairy, Navi, he had been a boy of eleven. Time and solitude had changed the boy into a handsome young man, wild and free. His trusted steed Epona, a brown-and-white silver bay who had accompanied him to Termina and to lands far and wide, carried him swiftly across the plains.

It had taken many a day's travel, but Link had finally made it back to Hyrule. The wind whipped through the seventeen-year-old's hair as he urged Epona across Hyrule field. Hyrule Castle town was in sight – he could not wait to see it again.

Link wore similar garb to when he had left six years previously; in homage to his childhood years among the kokiri, the children of the forest who had been watched over by the great deku tree. He wore a green hat several sizes too small for him, the point of it drooping downwards. He had it pushed back so that it sat upon the crown of his long golden hair, held in place by a discreet clip. He was outfitted in a green tunic over his ringmail, with a high cream-coloured collar that almost reached his chin. A pair of cream-coloured breeches and a pair of worn leather boots adorned his lower body, and he wore a silver earring through his pointed hylian ears.

A gilded sword was strung across his back - enchanted to never lose its sharp edge, no matter how many foes were cut down by it. A hylian shield also adorned Link's back, bearing the Harkinian crest. A quiver of arrows were hung in the small of his back, their accompanying bow looped over his shoulder, the string coming down across his lean chest.

Epona slowed to a canter as they approached the town's stables. The sun was high in the sky, signifying midday. A stableboy came out to watch their approach and ready a stable for the new arrival.

Link slid off of Epona's back while she trotted towards the stable hand. With a practiced motion, he flicked a blue rupee to the lad. The stableboy caught it, and nodded in gratitude. He took Epona gently and guided her into the stable.

The stable was perhaps one of the largest stables that Link had seen, as it needed to be to fit in the sheer amount of horses that needed to be housed. The lords and ladies of the city had their own stables, so the poor proles had to share a single stable. There were stalls travelling quite the length of the city wall, with horses of various breeds whinnying in many. Straw and stools adorned the floor, with many a stable boy meandering about, tending to the steeds.

Link left the stables and headed for the town's main gate. The city wall stretched about fifty feet in the air, with a few spears manning posts up high. Link nodded to the two spears at the gate, stepping into the shade provided by the curved ceiling arch of the gatehouse. Sharp looking iron portcullises flanked each exit of the gatehouse.

Link stepped out again into the sunlight, blinking slightly. He was in a vast street with market stalls on each side thronging with the town's citizens. High stone buildings rose on each side of the street, with straw-thatched roofs and colourful banners roping between them. Thin alleyways ran off wherever a gap existed, some only a few feet wide. Children chased each other, whooping and cheering and shouting. Merchants advertised their wares loudly. Smells of cooking meat and dung and flowers filled the midday air. The market scene had barely changed since he was a boy, he realised with a small smile. The smells filled him with an odd sense of nostalgia.

Link made his slow approach towards the castle that loomed overhead, directly ahead of him. Horse-drawn carriages trotted down the street, their drivers bellowing at pedestrians to make way. One particularly posh looking carriage thundered behind Link, trying to move around him. Link stepped to the side, a hand up in apology - but as the carriage moved past, he took ahold of the bar at the back and stepped on to the raised platform. He crouched down, so that he would not be visible to the driver if he were to turn around.

Link watched the market street sail away from him as his host moved further into the city. The tight street opened out into a fantastic town square, with a large fountain in the centre, with many jets of water shooting into the air. A large bronze statue stood sentry at the centre of the fountain, a large triangle made up of three smaller triangles. Folks called it many names; three-points, the Golden Goddesses, but Link knew it as the triforce. A childhood friend had told him the legend of the three goddesses: about how before time began and before spirits and life existed, the universe was in chaos. The three Golden Goddesses descended upon the chaos and began the creation of the world, each of them creating a different facet of the realm. Din created the material realm, Nayru gave the realm law and order, and Farore created all life forms that would follow the said order. The Goddesses then departed for the heavens, but not before leaving behind the Triforce, three sacred golden triangles representing a small portion of the essence of each of the goddesses.

Of course, this statue on top of the fountain in the centre of Hyrule Town was not the actual triforce; the real triforce was supposedly locked away in the Sacred Realm, a place no-one alive could truthfully claim to have seen.

Except Link.

Or perhaps not; in truth, even he was not sure whether he had truly seen and done what he thought, or if he had simply had a premonition which had saved the kingdom.

Link hopped off of the back of the carriage as soon as he realised it had turned away from the castle. He walked briskly towards the lowered drawbridge, the castle still looming impressively overhead.

The castle had changed since he had last been here; a much larger moat had been dug out, and a colossal pair of wooden doors impeded entry into the front courtyard of the castle. Link recalled the first time he had entered the castle, through a service hatch around the castle's east side. He was saddened to realise that entryway had probably been removed as the castle was renovated. He approached the two guardsmen standing either side of the massive oak doors.

"Halt, citizen!" called one of the guard. "What is your business here?"

Link smiled. "I seek an audience with her highness, the princess Zelda."

The guard looked him up and down. "You are Link O'Kokiri?"

The second guard harrumphed. "If you are here to treat with his majesty the king's daughter and heir, you might have at least dressed the part."

"My apologies," Link blushed. "That did not even occur to me. Still, I'm sure the princess will forgive my lack of suitable attire."

The guard laughed humourlessly. "So be it. Speak to Umar when you go in - no weapons allowed in the throne room."

Link nodded.

The first guardsman stepped toward the door, and gripped the massive iron handle. The door creaked inwards on gigantic hinges the size of a man.

Link gave a small nod of thanks to the man, before stepping into Hyrule Castle.


	3. Impa -1-

After many years of serving the Harkinians, Impa could never claim to have seen the young heiress to the throne quite as enthusiastic as she was now.

Princess Zelda had chosen her clothing for this engagement with great care – and she certainly looked the part! She wore a bronze circlet upon her head, framing the golden blonde locks that would reach her elbow without intervention. A simple yet elegant chain of iron and gold hung from her neck, with a single garnet embedded in the pendant. If you asked her of its meaning, she would gladly explain with a glimmer in her eyes that the iron symbolised the sword, a tool of the warrior. The gold symbolised the crown and rarity, properties of the royal family. She would tell you that her pendant symbolised the marriage of warrior and regent.

Zelda wore a simple white dress with skirts that reached the floor – it had shoulder pads of woven gold and at her waist hung the sigil of the house Harkinian, a golden bird with talons poised over the mystical triforce emblazoned on a deep plum purple backing.

Her hands were covered by long white gloves that reached up to her elbow. A small ruby was set in a ring which shone proudly from her ring finger.

Once Zelda's wet-nurse and now retainer, Impa and Impa alone would never tell on her honour that underneath her skirts, Zelda wore embroidered yet sturdy leather boots with an inch and a half of platform in their sole - to make her seem taller - and a plain cream-coloured pair of breeches.

Impa herself was a tall, fierce woman of advancing years – one of the members of the solitary sheikah tribe. Despite her age, she was wiry thin, and had the physique of a woman who trains often. She had the silvery, colourless hair of her people, and sharp red eyes that watched like a hawks'. She dressed in navy blue leather, with the sheikah's eye emblazoned on her chest. The Harkinian crest was sewn into her leather pauldrons, denoting her allegiance to the Crown.

Impa and her lady stood in the wings of Hyrule Castle's great throne room. Tall pillars ran the length of the hall on either side, each adorned with the brilliant purple banner of the house Harkinian. The king's own guardsmen were stationed at the foot of each pillar, a spear in hand and a helmet on their head. At the end of the hall, upon the raised platform, was the kings' throne, a splendid golden chair with a high back and rich purple upholstery upon the seat. Beside the kings' throne sat another, smaller throne – this one destined for the queen consort.

This was the seat that belonged to Zelda, at current. Her lady mother, exhausted from her birth, had gone to sleep those seventeen years ago and never awoken. Her father the king had been heartbroken, and had vowed never to remarry – an oath he had not broken to this day. Zelda remained Hyrule's only heir to the throne, her future reign unchallenged by the presence of brothers.

The King's Hand, Lord Walter Fielding, attended to matters of the court from the king's throne in his majesty's absence. The king had travelled west to bring justice to the criminals housed in the Spirit Temple, upon the Arbiter's Ground.

Lord Fielding did not look at all comfortable to be sat upon the throne, yet this, the king claimed, is exactly the quality that would help him rule well in his stead. He dressed mostly in dark colours, with only a white cravat and a crimson cloak to break the monotony of his clothing. He sported a salt-and-pepper goatee beard upon his thin face, and a round pair of spectacles were perched on the end of his nose. He was speaking with a short fellow in overalls and an oversized moustache, who was waving his arms wildly. Something about land and debts and matters of finance.

"He should arrive any moment soon, Impa," Zelda said, with a quiver of excitement in her voice. "He promised he would return on this day."

What she did not say was that today was the day that Link had claimed he had departed from another world - another time where the realm was ruled by the gerudo king Ganondorf, where the hero Link had slain the monstrous dictator and travelled seven years back in time in order to protect the realm from this cruel fate. This was the day that he had left that timeline, and she could not wait to meet her Hero of Time.

Impa herself was not sure if she believed his story. True, when he had come to the castle that summer's day seven years ago with news of an impending betrayal, and true enough the king met the gerudo's steel with steel in his own bedchambers. The good king had been ever grateful to the orphaned lad, and the princess had been enamored ever since.

"Do try to calm yourself, girl," Impa said seriously. "Remember, you are the heiress to the throne. It goes a long way to appear impartial."

Zelda pouted. "I'm not a girl anymore, Impa," she grumbled.

Impa give Zelda the side-eye that once would have frightened the teenager.

It looked as though Lord Fielding's business with the mustachioed man had concluded. The man turned away from Fielding, and upon noticing the princess, bowed deeply before striding off in a huff.

The elderly maester of Hyrule Castle, Maester Mortin, approached the throne cautiously from the side. He muttered something into Fielding's ear, who nodded slowly.

"What do you think he is saying to Lord Fielding?" Zelda pondered aloud.

Impa gave a small shrug. "If they wanted the kingdom to know, they would announce it."

The maester withdrew from the king's golden chair. Lord Fielding caught Impa's eye, and called for them, not unpolitely.

As they approached, the lord stood.

"It would seem that your esteemed guest is on his way here, your grace," Lord Fielding mused, a small smile obscured by the hand scratching his beard. "Since I do not know the boy, I thought it wise to stand down from the throne so that he may be greeted by familiar faces."

Zelda smiled. "Thank you, Walter. It is most kind of you."

"As it please you, princess," he gave a curt bow to the princess, and turned to Impa. "I shall place a few extra guardsmen at the entrance to the castle, as well as in the throne room."

Impa nodded, whilst confusion clouded Zelda's face.

"I do not understand, Walter," interjected Zelda. "Are we under attack, to require more guardsmen?"

Impa placed a hand on Zelda's shoulder. "It is just a precaution, Zelda dear."

"A precaution for who?"

"A precaution for whom," Impa corrected. "The boy has been out of the kingdom for several years - who knows who his allegiance lies with now? If he is half the swordsman you told me he is, we shall need better protection."

"Are you saying that Link would attack us?!" Zelda's voice was shrill. "No! I will not have it! Link is a friend, and it would be a great insult to meet him from behind a curtain of bodyguards."

Fielding looked troubled. "Your grace, we meant no disrespect. Your safety is our greatest priority."

Zelda looked at him evenly. "Link would never hurt me. That's all I have to say on this matter." and with that, she brushed past Fielding towards her father's throne, skirts billowing in the gust created by her sudden movement.

Lord Fielding looked at Impa with concern. "Did I do something wrong? I am afraid I may have missed something."

Impa sighed, and leaned in closer to Fielding. "The princess feels very deeply about this Link boy. She calls him her 'Hero of Time'. I had hoped that she would get over it..."

Fielding nodded. "Ah, young hearts do run free," he chuckled. Impa turned her head slightly to observe the princess settling on the throne, legs crossed and a hand on each armrest, chattering to a serving girl. "Her father was much the same when he was her age. Perhaps he still is."

Impa said nothing.

"Well; must be off," Fielding farewelled. "Nice chatting to you, Impa." He turned and walked away briskly, his head already wrapping around another problem of state.

Impa turned her attentions to the current head of state, sitting with almost perfect posture and looking very regal. Impa stepped onto the raised platform, and took her post stood beside the princess.

Each guardsman at each post stood motionless, eyes front, lining each pillar. A few ladies of the court sat in the viewing stalls high above, chattering quietly to one another. Impa looked to the window leading to the courtyard, half expecting to see a preteen Zelda peering through at her father's proceedings. A wave of sadness crashed over her as she realised those days were far gone, but she did not allow her face to convey.

At the end of the hall, a bugle called a single high note. "Your majesty," began the herald, "Link of the Kokiri requests an audience with you."

Zelda gave the smallest of nods, closing her eyes as she did so. "Send him in."

The door opened and closed, and footsteps filled the hall.

The young man, Link, was hardly dressed the part to attend the royal court. He was clad in green, with a pointed hat on his head. When he walked under the light given by the window, his sharp blue eyes glinted in the sunshine. Truly, he had matured into a handsome young man; Impa noted many a lady of the court sigh as he passed by.

The kokiri boy stopped at the foot of the step and dropped to one knee. The guards on either side watched him cautiously, gripping their halberds.

"Your majesty?" He said with uncertainty.

Zelda opened her eyes. She guarded her surprise well, but Impa knew what sign to look for - she sighed inwardly and knew that the princess's infatuation wasn't going to be taking its leave anytime soon.


	4. Rauru -1-

The carriage lurched a little, its wheel bumping over a stone in the dry ground. It's ornate gold trimmings were worn away by the many sandstorms it had braved, and the redwood panelling as smooth as a pebble.

Two appalachian mares pulled the carriage along the dry desert road, the sound of their horseshoes on the stony road muffled by the sand that had collected on the pathway. The mustachioed carriage driver chatted idly with the king's guardsman sat beside him atop the caravan, trading quips and stories alike.

The carriage was flanked front and back by two more carriages, neither as ornately carved as the middle one. These carriages were occupied by four guardsmen each, plus the men on the roof.

Grand Maester Rauru sat in the middle carriage along with two other passengers. He was a large man with many summers behind him. Small eyes were largely hidden by bushy grey eyebrows; a large grey beard similarly concealed his mouth. He was dressed in a large beige robe the size of a bedsheet. His hands were clasped on his big belly, idly twiddling his thumbs.

"We should be there soon, your majesty," came a slightly nasal yet not-altogether-unpleasant voice from somewhere below his right shoulder. "I can feel it."

The speaker was a tall yet timid young woman sat beside Rauru. She wore a headdress with two cone-shapes rising above her head, and a large amethyst crowned just above her forehead. Her silver fringe partially covered her scarlet eyes, and white feathers ran around the back of her neck. These were attached to the white dress that she wore, an elegant gown with many frills and folds to it. An opal necklace hung from her pale neck, the jewel resting in the modest amount of cleavage her corset allowed. She wore white stockings and white boots, partially visible as her skirts were segmented all the way around. A sceptre with a strange-looking purple jewel at its centre was clutched in her hands.

"Is that so, Lady Lanacia?" mused the third occupant of the carriage. King Francis Harkinian, the third of his name, was a large man in his sixties whose presence seemed undeniable wherever he went. He was dressed in a rich red robe, with trimmings of gold and silver embroidered upon the edges. He had sharp, steely-grey eyes, that despite his foreboding appearance, looked very kindly. A magnificent golden crown rested upon his greying head, beset with large garnets, pearls and amethysts.

"I should hope so, with the amount of time we've spent on the road so far!" Rauru boomed. "I miss the feel of sleeping on an actual mattress, rather than the ground!" The king smiled.

Lanacia looked to the king. "And I believe you would be looking forward to getting back in time for your daughter's wedding," the king's smile faltered. "Am I not right, your majesty?"

Rauru knew that Francis had not had an easy time with the young princess recently. She had begged him not to go out to the Spirit Temple like he had. "It is incredibly dangerous!" she had warned.

But Francis was an honourable king, and he refused to allow anyone but the king deal the king's justice; not least to traitors. They had come all this way for the execution of one extremely dangerous gerudo. Seven years ago, the traitor had snuck into the king's chambers, dagger in hand. If it had not been for Zelda's premonitions and the help of the young boy from the forest, Francis may not have survived the attack.

The court had decided Ganondorf was guilty in only five minutes; his crime was entirely undeniable and the gerudo did not even try to hide what he had planned. He had simply leered menacingly at everyone at the court, not least the young princess Zelda. He had been lead away in chains to be jailed in the Spirit Temple, way out across the desert to the west.

The thief had been sentenced to death - and here they were, after the customary seven year gap between sentencing and execution, the day had finally arrived for Francis to bring Justice down upon Ganondorf's head. No scrap of evidence proving Ganondorf's innocence had ever or could ever be produced, that much was certain. Perhaps seven years in a cell had humbled the gerudo, Rauru wondered.

Rauru felt the carriage slow down gently, eventually coming to a complete stop. A high bugle note sounded from some distance away, sharp and questioning. It was answered a moment or two later with a six-note tune, which Rauru knew as the first notes of the song of the royal family. Even the opening bars brought his hairs to stand on end, an enchanting melody blown across the sands by the desert winds. He carefully pushed his head out of the carriage window in order to better listen.

A great iron portcullis stood sentinel in front of their carriage. No doubt the high note had been called from one of the many watchtowers of the great Temple of Spirits that lay ahead.

He knew from experience that the music was no more than a question-and-answer to open the gate. Indeed, no sooner had the last note been carried away by the wind, was the gate being winched upward.

"There is mysterious powers in those notes," Lanacia said thoughtfully.

The carriage gently began moving forwards again. Rauru pulled his head back in.

Rauru shivered. "I must admit, the thought of meeting that villain again fills me with unease. Only an evil or insane man can laugh when he is sentenced to death."

Lanacia nodded. "I feel the same, Maester Rauru. I cannot begin to comprehend what could drive a person to treason - after he had received the king's hospitality, too. The idea of a golden power does strange things to many a man."

Francis snorted. "That is why none should know of it," he said darkly. "Man was not meant to know such a power."

"Dark words in such light times!" Rauru said, trying to lighten the mood. "Is this not why the Sacred Realm has such defences? First, a seeker must obtain the Emerald, Sapphire and Ruby from each corner of the Kingdom. Then his heart must be true enough to be able to pull the Master Sword from it's pedestal. Ganondorf would not be able to do all that from his cell."

"In the boy's story, he manipulated others into doing his bidding," Francis returned. "The boy says that he himself pulled the Master Sword at my daughter's request and unwittingly opened the way for the gerudo."

"I'm sure the lad, having seen it happen once, would not be fool enough to allow it to happen again," Rauru said finally. "The triforce split when Ganondorf attempted to seize it anyway. It's components, Power, Wisdom, and Courage all went their separate ways."

Lanacia nodded. There was a pause as each occupant went back to looking out of the windows. Cool stone walls rose on each side of the carriage, standing sentinel on their path through the main gates through the temple. Soon they would have to disembark.

Rauru turned when he heard Lanacia clear her throat. "Hypothetically, Maester Rauru, which element would you seek?"

Rauru's gaze shifted from Lanacia to the window for a second.

"Courage," he said after a pause. "Wisdom and Power are good enough, but one must have the strength of character to be able to do what's right, no matter the cost."

Lanacia looked thoughtful.

The king chuckled. "You don't need courage when you know the wisest course," he said jovially. "When all other options have been ruled out, there is only one way the river can flow. Wisdom is my champion."

"If that's what the King decrees is the right answer, then who am I to question?" Rauru jested. Francis smirked; but Lanacia did not seem to have heard his quip.

"Do you not agree, m'lady?" Rauru asked.

"Well sir," she said slowly. "Wisdom and Courage are well and good, but useless in a pinch. Power is the only true option a man without army or sword can take."

"I am surprised at your answer, m'lady," said Rauru, scratching his chin. "I would have thought for sure that a sage like yourself would have chosen Wisdom as her champion…"

The king considered her reasoning. "The traitor gerudo had both army and sword, and yet in the boy's tale of things yet to come, he chose Power…" He was silent for a few seconds. "Ah, never mind, it makes no matter," he said. "No-one will be reaching the golden power anytime soon."

"True enough," Rauru agreed. They sat in silence for a good minute, before the carriage slowed to a halt once more.

"It looks like we've arrived," Rauru heralded. The guardsman from the front seat moved around to the door and opened it for the king. He stepped back and stood to attention whilst Francis slowly climbed out of the carriage.

Rauru gestured for Lanacia to get out ahead of him. She smiled and ducked her head as she clambered out. They had stopped in front of the main sanctum of the temple; a large curved archway adorned with a dim-looking opal stood between between the carriage and the interior of the building. The temple stretched high into the sky, a statue of an immense seated nude gerudo woman looming above. Her arms rested in crevices in the wall, and her eyes looked down upon the carriage through the cleavage of her hill-like breasts. Rauru gasped, realising that the archway was set between the warrior maiden's thighs.

By the time Rauru had extricated himself from his pile of cushions and closed the door, a welcoming party had already arrived. Three royal guardsmen flanked the tall, handsome gerudo woman that had come to greet them. She towered over them by a head; she was easily six feet tall. She wore her flaming red hair back in a ponytail that almost reached her thighs, and a fire opal larger than the circlet it was set in was mounted on her forehead. The colour of her hair was fiercely magnificent against her brown skin, almost glowing in the midday sun. A purple veil covered her mouth, sitting below a pointed nose and glimmering cat-like eyes. On her torso she only wore a simple slip of fabric, keeping her chest in place. She wore low-cut silk breeches, which looked extremely baggy around the knees as was common in gerudo fashion. If you studied hard enough, you might make out the outline of her toned legs through the light material. She was quite a muscular woman, and it was clear from looking at her why the gerudo called her Archwarrior.

"Your majesty," she greeted with a smile and the faintest hint of an accent. "It's so good to see you again!" She bowed awkwardly; it was clear to Rauru that bowing was not something she did often.

"The same to you, Nabooru," Francis returned politely. "How have you been keeping?"

Nabooru grinned, showing her pointed teeth. "The desert winds howl, but they do not knock me down," she said enthusiastically, slapping her firm stomach. "How is young princess Zelda? My offer to train her in the ways of the gerudo still stands, you know…"

Francis smiled apologetically. "I am afraid her answer is unchanged, Nabooru," he said slowly. "But she thanks you all the same."

"I'll make a proper warrior of her some day!" Nabooru said, undeterred. Turning, she spoke to Lanacia. "Perhaps this one would make a suitable alternative?"

Lanacia blushed. "You are kind to offer but, I cannot… I have duties…"

Nabooru chuckled softly. "Ah, but that's not why you are here. The prisoner remains as he always has been. Come, let me show you to him."

With that, Nabooru turned on her heel and marched further into the temple. Francis's long strides made up any difference she may have created, but Rauru and Lanacia had to jog to keep up.

"And what measure is that, then?" Rauru inquired. Out of the four of them, he was the only one who had not been present when the prisoner had met his prison.

"He is kept in his cell, ten floors below ground," Lanacia explained. "I was only ten years old when I first came here, but I remember it is a cold, dark place down there."

"He has not moved from his cell at all," Nabooru said. "If you ever were to look through the slots into his cell, all he would do is stare at you. He is a strange creature; I am glad there is seven inches of steel between him and the outside world."

They rounded a corner and began to descend a spiral staircase. The brackets on the walls were lit, but the fire seemed to feel cooler and cooler the lower they went.

"Of course, the steel is not his only obstacle," Lanacia said. "They had me place an enchantment on the room; the curse of double time. For every second we experience out here, Ganondorf experiences ten. To him, he has been locked away for seventy years - I wonder if the time has humbled him at all?"

"If it has, we would not know," Francis said. "And nor does it matter. We are here to put him out of his - and our - misery for good."

They had reached what seemed to be the bottom of the staircase - it opened out into a small room. A lone gerudo woman stood guard beside a huge metal door. She seemed to recognise Nabooru, and slapped her bare belly in greeting.

"Alright then," Nabooru said. "Half-blood, if you please."

Lanacia scowled at Nabooru's choice of words. Slowly, she stepped forward, holding her sceptre up high. She closed her eyes and began to speak in a strange tongue.

"They have to remove the enchantment before we can open the cell," Rauru heard one of the guardsmen explain to the other.

Silently, a few more gerudo women crept into the room from the stairs as Lanacia continued to chant.


	5. Impa -2-

The princess had slipped on a simple hooded robe for the journey. Her circlet she had removed, and she had run her hand through her neatly brushed hair to make her seem more like a peasant. A sky-blue scarf, the same colour as her eyes, was wound around her neck, with the end of it coming up to her chin. Her sharp, twinkling eyes were turned to meet his, a smile wide on her porcelain face.

The boy however, had not needed disguising. The only difference was the addition of a cream-coloured shoulder cape on his right side which concealed his swordbelt which he for now kept on his hip.

Impa silently watched the pair of youths from the shadows. They were making their way out of the castle on an excursion - her royal highness had been shocked to learn that Link had only just arrived in town and insisted she show him around. Impa had agreed only on condition that she chaperone them. She used this as a chance to practice the ancient way of the sheikah; moving without being seen. Indeed, her two charges seemed to have forgotten all about her.

"You certainly look the part, your grace," Link said. "Do you come to town in disguise often?"

"Perhaps," Zelda smiled cheekily. "You mustn't call me 'your grace', Link. 'Your grace' was my mother. I will be Queen Regent one day; you must learn to call me 'your majesty'."

Link blinked, looking confused. Zelda smiled, before breaking into laughter; it was a refined laugh, musical and high, but with genuine mirth.

"Why so confused, my hero?" She giggled. "It was simply a jest."

She took his silence as an opportunity to link her arm with his as they walked. "You can call me Zelda if you fancy," she said blushing.

"Thank you, princess Zelda," Link blushed too. "I'm truly honoured you would allow it…" Their gaze met each other's, and lingered a second before they both pulled away like they had been burned.

"Where would you have us go, Zelda?" Link asked, looking in the other direction.

"Shall we head to the market and see what is on offer today?" Zelda suggested.

Impa walked behind them, maintaining a large enough gap that they wouldn't see her if they looked around, but close enough she could reach them quickly if need be. This wasn't the first time she had followed the young heiress out of the castle grounds; Zelda did love to go for a stroll through the town every other sunday afternoon.

They walked out towards the market square, meandering slowly. Zelda's arm was still linked with Link's, although they were looking away from each other at the moment.

Impa had noted that Zelda had been enthralled by Link the moment she had laid eyes on him. At a loss for words, Zelda had forgotten to greet Link when he introduced himself at court; Impa had had to step in and tell Link that he was welcomed with the royal family's warmest wishes, and that the court would be eager to hear of his adventures outside of the Kingdom.

Link had laughed modestly and shook his head, saying that there wasn't much to tell, farmhandery and warding off raiders was hardly exciting business for the court to hear. It was then that Zelda had remembered herself, and said quickly that any tales of the Hero Of Time's would be listened to with open ears.

"As you wish, your grace," Link had bowed low, and yet his eyes had stayed on the princess. She sighed quietly, and he launched into the tale of his friend Navi and his six year quest.

After his story, many a lady of the court had offered their sincerest sympathies, and offered to feast with him at their homes One capricious young lady had even offered to let him "find" her, if it took his fancy. Link had politely declined all offers but the princess's. She had suggested that a knighthood was perhaps in order for his courage and clear loyalty; she also offered to walk with him through the town.

The square was still as busy as ever in the midafternoon. The pair headed for a stall selling trinkets and items of accessory. The trader, a big mustachioed fellow who looked like an egg, boomed a welcome and advertised his wares to them.

"We've got all kinds, all kinds of accessories and jewellery!" He cried, turning to Link. "Want something for your lovely wife there, my friend?"

Link blushed. "Oh, uh…" he looked uncertainly to Zelda.

Zelda smiled. "What do you have?"

"Ah, I see it's the woman who holds the purse in this relationship," The trader elbowed Link and winked. "Well, you don't look like you're from around here, so why not a souvenir of sorts? I've got this wonderful pendant of the golden power, 19-carat gold that is too!" he pointed to a dusty looking necklace in a glass case in front of him.

Impa moved quickly but cautiously to a stall nearby, acting like a potential buyer while at the same time keeping an eye on the princess.

"How much would that be?" Link asked.

The merchant hummed an incoherent tune. "Usually I'd part with it for around seventy rupees, but since I think it would look quite fetching around your lady's neck I think I'm willing to accept around fifty-five for it."

Link's eyes bulged.

Zelda frowned. "Is everything you carry so pricey?"

The merchant looked a little put-out. "Hey, I have to turn a profit on my wares," he said.

Link looked around. "Oh," he said. "What of those?"

He pointed to an assortment of bangles and bracelets of gold and silver, laid out neatly side by side.

"Those are twenty rupees apiece," the trader said proudly. "Wrought by my son in his forge, you should see him if you have any need of armour or weapons." He eyed Link's shoulder cape. "Although perhaps you have no need. Still, call at Gerren's Smithing if need should arise!"

Zelda studied the bracelets - it seemed as though one had caught her eye. "This one?"

The trader turned. "Ah- that one is a fine bracelet wrought of platinum and a little silver, and encrusted with sapphire diamonds all along it. D'you wanna try it on, miss?"

Zelda nodded, and slipped the bracelet over her hand. It looked beautiful against her pale skin, and the jewels glinted beautifully in the sun. She gave a small smile. "I like it."

the trader grinned toothily. "I also carry a partner-of-sorts for that one, here," he said, gently lifting another bracelet from the counter. "Gold and bronze wrought, with rubies encrusted into it. I'm sure it would look quite fetching on the gentleman's wrist," he looked to Link.

Link carefully accepted the bangle and he too slipped it on. The trader was not wrong, the colour looked great against his comparatively more tanned complexion.

"Oh Link, it's beautiful!" Zelda cooed. "Please, allow me to buy it for you as a coming-home present!"

"Oh, princ- I mean, uh, Zel- Zel, dear?" Link stammered. "You are too kind; but I couldn't ask you to buy it for me…"

"But I want to, Link!" she said, eyes aglimmer. "How much did you say they were?"

The merchant grinned. "Twenty each. Although since I hate to break up a pair, I'll sell them both to you for thirty-five rupees."

Zelda opened a small drawstring pouch at her belt and carefully removed one red and three blue rupees. She handed them to the trader.

The merchant hastily put the rupees into a repository below the counter, then clapped his hands. "Wonderful!" He beamed. "Will there be anything else?"

Impa watched Zelda and Link head away from the trader's stall, making their way between the throngs of people and admiring their purchases. She followed noiselessly as they walked the winding streets of Hyrule castle town, taking in the sights and sounds.

They soon approached a small shop with an arrow planted firmly in a bulls-eye painted on the door. Zelda leaned up on tip-toe to whisper something into Link's ear. He laughed - she smiled and opened the door to the archer's store.

Impa stole stealthily down the small, cramped alley beside the shop. A window, slightly ajar, was placed just above her. Silent as a cat on the prowl, she used the small space to her advantage to position herself between the buildings about five feet in the air. Carefully, she peered through the window.

Link and the princess were speaking with the ugly man behind the counter. The shop did not seem to have anything for sale, instead having a space set out with a few targets at the end. A sign by the shopkeep read "5 Rupees for a game! Hit all targets, win a prize!"

Link handed the keeper something. The shopkeep beamed and spread his arms. "Wonderful!" he cried. "Take this, good sir, and this is for you, good lady. Happy shootin'!"

With that, he passed two simple looking bows over the counter. Link took up the bow, and held it firmly in his right hand. At the same time, Zelda lowered her hood and untied her scarf. She too took the bow, this time in her left hand.

"Ladies first," Link smiled cheekily. Zelda waved her head side-to-side slightly, before picking up one of the ten arrows laid out on the counter. Link stepped back as she carefully notched the arrow, and held the bow up, the three fingers of her right hand in perfect, elegant form on the string.

"Somebody's been having lessons," enthused the shopkeep. Zelda said nothing, and simply pulled the string taut.

"I'm ready," she announced. The keep pulled a short lever from behind the counter.

Instantly, two man-sized targets popped up at the back of the gallery. Zelda fired, hitting the leftern-most target square between his painted eyes. With practiced grace, she immediately selected and slotted the next arrow, readying her bow again. She caught the second target in it's neck as it began to collapse into the floor again.

Three targets sidled from somewhere in the left wall across towards the right. Zelda caught the middle one just off-centre, but her next arrow sailed over the right-most target's shoulder. With gritted teeth, she fired again. Her arrow fell to the floor of the gallery, a sign that she had not released her fingers all at the same time. The two targets disappeared into the right hand wall.

Three more targets popped up at the end of the gallery, this time moving towards the shooter. One took an arrow to the head, the other the chest, but as the final one closed in Zelda's shot went wide again. The target disappeared into the floor just before the counter.

The last two targets appeared suddenly on either side of the gallery. Loading her penultimate shot, Zelda got the right target where it's right arm would be, but loaded her final shot too slowly for the last target. It disappeared back into the wall, her arrow clattering into the wall behind it harmlessly.

Zelda cursed under her breath.

"And your score is… forty-nine out of a hundred!" The keep announced. "Sorry m'lady, better luck next time!"

Zelda scowled, and placed her bow back on the counter. Link gave a sympathetic smile. "Perhaps you just aren't used to moving targets?" He said. "You were brilliant at the stationary ones."

"The targets I've practiced with don't move," Zelda said glumly.

"I consider myself lucky if my targets remain motionless," Link agreed. He gathered the ten arrows from the counter, and held them in his left. Zelda looked at him quizzically. "Watch this," he winked.

"If you are left-handed sir, I can get you a-" the shopkeep began.

"No, don't worry," Link said. "I've got this."

"As you wish," the keep said, pulling the lever.

No sooner had the first two targets popped up had Link already put an arrow between each of their eyes. He drew the bow with the arrow on the other side of the bow, facing outwards, greatly reducing his reload speed, and holding the bundle in his drawing hand meant a quick flick of the wrist was all that was needed to load.

The three targets sped out from the side. Instantly, Link had an arrow dead-centre of each of their straw chests. The next three that popped up, making a dummy dash for the counter got no further than a few feet before Link rained arrows upon them, quick enough that you might have thought they had come from three bows rather than one. The final two fared no better, the right target taking an arrow through the shoulder and the left one through the heart.

The shopkeep looked stunned. "Y-your score is… ninety-two out of one hundred…" he said breathlessly. "How did… where did…?"

"I learned a few things out in the field," Link beamed. "For starters, the traditional shooting way only works for stationary targets. I swapped the side I notched the arrow so that I can load in one motion, and being left-handed works a charm like that on a right-handed bow. I use my thumb on the string rather than my fingers precisely so that I won't drop an arrow, and I suppose many years of practice just sort of take up the rest."

Zelda and the keep looked at Link like he was some kind of archery god. "No-one has ever gotten above seventy-six on this range," the keep said, amazed. "I must give you an extra-special prize, mister…?"

"Just call me Link," Link said. "Oh and, please, you don't have to trouble yourself."

"No, no, I insist, Mister Link," the keep bowed. "I do not have much, but please take this bottle of potion I was keeping." He produced a glass bottle filled with a pale green liquid. "This is the tincture of focus," he explained. "Drink it, and the world around you seems to slow down. Perfect for hitting moving targets." He laughed, "Although I don't think you need much help with that, eh?"

Link smiled. "If you insist," he said evenly, taking the bottle.

"Oh, and please, accept this too," the keep gushed, holding out a red rupee. "Your money back in double!"

Link looked shocked. "I can't accept that," he said.

"Yes you can! Take it," the keep pressed the rupee into Link's gloved palm. "I can't thank you enough for gracing my shop. Thank you my good man!"

And with that, he bustled off into the back room.

Link looked at Zelda. She was looking at him like she had just seen him for the first time. "You're amazing, Link," she breathed. He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head.

"Listen, do you want this tincture?" He asked. "I don't really need it…"

Zelda looked thoughtful, and took the potion. "I graciously accept, your excellence," she joked, mock-bowing. "Please accept this scarf as a token of my appreciation." She held her scarf out to Link.

Link looked confused. "A-are you… joking?" He asked uncertainly.

"No!" Zelda said. "I feel like I have to give you something in return, but I don't have a handkerchief or anything like the princesses in the old stories used to give their heroes!"

Link shrugged, and took the scarf, winding it around his neck. It smelled like Zelda's perfume. "I shall treasure it always," he said, only half-joking.

They turned towards the shop exit.

"Oh, and Zelda?" Link said.

She looked at him.

"Can I have the bottle back after you're done with it?"


End file.
